Emergency Exit
by KKBELVIS
Summary: Something has captured Sam. Injured him and is holding him captive. Gotta love the guys in hunter mode. Story complete
1. Chapter 1

EMERGENCY EXIT

By: Karen B.

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Summary: One shot…Something has captured Sam. Injured him and is holding him captive. Gotta love the guys in hunter mode.

Story loosely based upon an actual Ohio urban legend -- The Frogman.

Disclaim…only own my crazy dreams. Non profit at that!

**"The Rainbow Connection"**

**written by Kenny Ascher and Paul Williams**

(The beautiful opening number of "The Muppet Movie"-- one that turns me into soup. Unrelated to my story -- other than the fact the song is sung by a frog…Laugh out loud!).

**Kermit: (The frog)**

Why are there so many songs about rainbowsAnd what's on the other side?Rainbows are visions, but only illusions,And rainbows have nothing to we've been told and some choose to believe itI know they're wrong, wait and we'll find it, the rainbow connection,The lovers, the dreamers and me.

Who said that every wish would be heard and answeredWhen wished on the morning star?Somebody thought of that, and someone believed it,And look what it's done so 's so amazing that keeps us stargazingAnd what do we think we might see?Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection,The lovers, the dreamers, and me.

All of us under its spell,We know that it's probably magic...

... Have you been half asleep? And have you heard voices?I've heard them calling my name.... Is this the sweet sound that calls the young sailors?The voice might be one and the sameI've heard it too many times to ignore itIt's something that I'm s'posed to be...Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection,The lovers, the dreamers, and me.

Laa, da daa dee da daa daa,La laa la la laa dee daa doo...

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I curled into a ball on the cold, wet floor, trying to hold on to consciousness, and hoping that thing didn't come back anytime soon. There was no way I was going to be able to fight the less than human form off any longer.

"Dean, hurry." I shivered hard, huddling against the damp wall, sweaty and dirty, my favorite gray hooded sweatshirt clinging to the stonework.

They say all the warmth in your body leaves through your head. Who 'they' were I couldn't be certain. I barely could move, guiding my eyes to the little light coming from my flashlight that somehow had escaped my grasp and now lay a few feet away. I tried to calculate how long I'd been here. More than likely, not too long since the flashlight's beam glimmered brightly cutting through the darkness.

I wanted to get to the flashlight, get up on my own two feet and figure out where I was -- but we don't always get what we want. I cringed reaching for my hood, pulling the material up to cover my head and stuffing my tightly fisted hands into the front pockets. That small action made my heart react in a bad way, sending the muscle pounding deep within my ear canal and making me dizzy. My head was spinning, and all I could hear was Dean's last words to me before we split up to track the slimy thing through the abandoned slaughter house.

"Sam." Dean punched me in my shoulder. "Hunting is getting easier all the time."

"Ha," I whispered, startled by the weakness of my own voice echoing through the dungeon.

The abandoned slaughter house was a solid stonework building. A cement shelter, not a window in the place. There was little in this job that took us off guard. Dean and I had read on the net about a dozen or so people disappearing after they'd come here out of curiosity to meander through the old building -- never to be heard of again. I figured the culprit to be the vengeful spirit type. During my research I came across a man by the name of Victor Browning. He worked in the slaughter house during the early 70's. Browing had accidentally slipped and fell off a catwalk to his death. Fall guy had to be our ghost --the facts were a Cinderella fit.

Wrong.

I shivered upon the cold hard floor, regretting the fact Dean and I had split up. Closing my eyes, a picture of the thing's fiendish smile flashed before me. Thing took me off guard. Fall guy was not our ghost -- creature wasn't even human. At first, it was just a shadow flickering on the wall, but suddenly the harmless shadow was gone. Replaced by the cold deadly stare of a strange form; so unreal I had to wonder if fall guy had gotten his hands on a gruesome latex mask. The green, leathery skinned creature was crouched low in a corner. I could tell however, it wasn't large, maybe four or five feet tall and weighing sixty to seventy pounds.

"Dude, Halloween was last month," I muttered going for my gun.

The creature was a faster draw, springing from its crouched position, knocking into my chest and driving me straight to the floor.

"Umph!" The breath driven out of me, I fell backward, cracking my head against the cement.

Damn froglike being had the strength of three pro-football players. I struggled to get back to my feet, but wasn't fast enough. I knew the exact moment I was in real deep trouble -- the creature had stood up, its eyes glowing red with anger. In an instant frogman's jaws were latched onto my left calf, sharp, sinking teeth ripping out a large chunk of my flesh.

That was the last thing I remembered. Until I came to, lying on the floor, in some small four by four stone cell, shivering, dizzy, and more than a little confused.

Sam! You in there?" A frantic voice penetrated the thick cloud that was my head.

I opened my eyes, seeing a glimmer of light under the door frame. A shadow dwelled there, the silent stalker moving back and forth. Was frogman back to raid his fridge? Me being the only thing in his fridge. A horrible image came to mind. Frogman devouring me, starting with my legs -- payback for all of frog-kind. I shrugged off the image, struggling to get to my feet.

"Sam, answer me when I call you!"

Dean. Realization pierced my brain like a arrow. I took a deep breath and opened my mouth, but didn't have a chance to answer as the force that was Dean, kicked the door in.

Everything was fast and blurry. I zeroed in on my brother's face. Dean looked like a young Jedi knight storming the rebel base as he barged inward.

"Dean," I sighed and closed my eyes.

"Sam." Dean's breath in my ear. "You okay?" He touched my leg.

"Gaaa!" My eyes snapped open. "Dude, are you serious?" I gave Dean a cold look. "You'd never get a job as a doctor."

"Ummm…" Dean ignored me as he checked my wound.

"How'd you find me?" I tried to sit up scrunching my eyes against the burning pain.

"I'm awesome," Dean said dryly, pressing me back down. "Don't move."

"Dean, we have to get out of here," I complained, staring at the dark ceiling, my body trembling.

"Just stay put a minute."

I didn't have to look to know, Dean was slipping his belt off. Next a hand gripped my leg and raised the ligament up off the ground.

"Ow," I moaned.

"How'd you like that entry, little brother?" Dean's calm tone distracting me from the pain. "Was cool, huh? Like Owen Wilson and Ben Stiller, cool." He wrapped the leather strap around my leg.

"Starsky and Hutch…" I gritted my teeth. "Cool." Our eyes met, both going wide as he tightened down the makeshift tourniquet. "You're a real…" I flinched against the pain.

"Easy." Dean flinched, too.

"A real superhero."

"I am a superhero." Dean smiled. "But without the tights."

"Ew." I cocked a brow to the disturbing image of Dean in red leotards.

"Hold on, Sam. Your leg is still bleeding."

"Yeah, okay." I braced myself knowing what was coming next. "Just don't break my leg the way you broke that door, superman," I chuffed.

"Hey," Dean chuckled lightly. "That wasn't easy. You ever bust down an eight-inch thick wooden door with your bare boots?"

"No." I winced as Dean tightened down the belt further.

"Good." Dean gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Don't."

"You kill --"

"Prince Charming?" Dean cut me off by disappearing from my sight.

Confused, I turned my head to see him flanking along side the half-kicked in door, searching the hallway he'd come from.

"Guess not," I surmised.

"Thought you said this place was haunted by the spirit of Victor Browning, not some Teenaged Mutant Ninja Turtle."

"He's a frog, Dean." I rolled my eyes.

"Whatever, Sam. We can talk fourth period biology later," Dean grumbled, now crouched back at my side. "Think if I help you…you can walk?"

"Yeah," I said fisting both hands into the front of Dean's jacket.

"Good." Dean took me by the arm. "Come on." He pulled me to my feet and I staggered. "Sam?"

"I got it."

"Yeah, sure." Dean didn't buy my lie, moving his arm to my waist for more support. "Easy, Sam. I said I'd help."

We turned toward the one and only door just as it slammed shut.

"Nonono!" Dean let go of me, and shot forward shoving a shoulder hard against the door. "Sonofabitch!" He cried, bouncing off the door like a rubber ball.

Stripped of my crutch, I wobbled to and fro struggling to remain standing, watching Dean ram his shoulder against the door again and again.

"Damn it." Dean turned back to me. "Sam!" He snagged my arm holding me upright. "You okay?"

"I need a day off," I admitted.

"Maybe next semester, Ferris."

"Ha. Ha." I glanced around. "Now what?" I asked, feeling weird. I rubbed my forehead trying to ignore the pain in my leg and the icy feel that washed over me.

"Now we are not getting out the same way I busted in. Raphael is smarter than he looks. He's got us barricaded in here somehow."

"What? Superhero powers only work from …" I broke off, everything including Dean was rolling around like a pair of loaded dice.

"Sam!"

My legs gave out and I started to go down.

"Hey!"

The room was a blur, but I was aware enough to know Dean had scooped me into his arms, and eased me to the floor.

"Hey!" Dean leaned over, watching me. "Can you hold the flashlight?"

What my brother take me for -- an idiot? I wanted to tell Dean that I was fine. That I could man more than a little flashlight, but something totally different came out.

"I'm cold," I said in voice that sounded foreign.

Dean stroked the back of his hand against my cheek. "Sammy." His voice was soft. "You're burning up."

"No." I shook my head. "Cold."

"Sam!" Dean snapped in anger, frowning down at my leg. "I told you hunting should get easier -- not harder. How'd you let Kermit get the drop on you like this?"

"Stupid," I muttered, feeling sweaty, my heart racing. "Thought his name was, Raphael?"

"Yes you are." Dean smiled, but his tone was tight with frustration.

"Are what?"

"Stupid," Dean whispered. "Where's a dungeon master when you need one?"

"Dean," I coughed, desperate to slow the hammering in my chest down. "This isn't Dungeons and Dragons, and if it was, we rolled a double zero, man."

"Wonder what Gygax would do in this situation," Dean said, glancing around then back at me. "Sam, that lizard bite…"

"Frog."

"Whatever. I don't think…." Dean looked away, but not before I say the fear in his eyes.

"Dean, what?"

"I don't think this is a case of a simple bite," he said, still not looking at me. "It might be poisonous. Judging by how you're looking. You're probably infected."

"What? You mean like rabies or something?"

Dean nodded, seemingly distracted.

"What do we do?"

"Just don't go 'Old Yeller' on me," he mumbled

"'Frothing at the mouth isn't my style, Dean."

"Got a knife." Dean suddenly asked.

I winced at the strange request, thinking of the old Western's where they'd cut open a snake bit and suck the poison out.

"Sam!" Dean snapped his fingers. "Knife."

"You going to suck the poison out?" My voice shook.

"Don't be a pansy. Besides, that only works in the movies." Dean gave a weak smile.

"Right boot," I complied, hoping the weapon was still there.

Dean rolled up my pant leg.

"Jumangi!" Dean took the hidden knife, moving away from me to the farthest corner of the room.

Actually, Dean was wrong. Sucking the poison out could slow the progress of the venom. In my case though it'd been too long since the bite and we didn't even know if the frogman was poisonous. Judging by the way I felt however, I was beginning to wonder.

"Where's your knife?" I asked, but Dean didn't answer. "I suppose superheroes don't need knives."

"Sam, not only is Kermit on steroids, the slippery little sucker is a purse snatching pickpocket that can leap tall buildings in a single bound."

"He stole the weapon's bag?" I asked in shocked dismay, watching Dean's shadow in the dark corner of the room.

"And my knife."

"Great. What are you doing now?" Dean didn't answer, just kept fumbling and bumbling about. "Dean!" I demanded loudly. "How are we going to kill this thing if all we have is my little pig-sticker?"

"Point a finger at it and yell bang," Dean said sarcastically. "I don't know, Sam. We'll figure it out. First things first. You ready?" Like the wind, Dean was by my side again.

"For what?" I swallowed, my mouth going dry and my stomach going into spasms.

"Emergency exit."

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Shoulder's hunched against the dampness, I leaned hard against Dean as we headed down the creepy twisted pipeline. A disgusted twitch came to my lip, we were in the bowels of the slaughter house.

"Gheeeeeee," I ground out, pain lancing up my leg, I gripped the flashlight tighter noting the beam had faded some.

"Can you keep walking?" Dean asked, in that tight worried tone of his.

"Is that what you call what I'm doing," I stated, noncommittally. "Dean, I'm slowing you down."

"Nothing can slow Batman down." Dean's voice echoed through the long tunnel, along with the sloshing of sewage water beneath our feet.

"You think there are alligators in this sewer?" I joked, trying to get a smile to form on my brother's poker-straight face.

"The old urban legend did cross my mind." Dean's expression, deadly serious.

"This drain is like a whole other world. It could go on for miles," I muttered.

"Frickinawesome," Dean said, angrily.

"I'm just saying, Dean."

"Well, don't."

I compressed my lips together, feeling Dean's concern mount, and trying not to say another word. An angry Dean, was a scared and worried Dean.

Looking down the tunnel, I wished we had a blueprint to this place. I shivered, the six-inch deep water was cold and soaked my jeans up my to my knees. I wasn't feeling so good. I concentrated on walking. Right foot -- breathe in. Left foot -- breathe out. I could hear the break of water, sloshing up against the sides of the stone tunnel.

"Saaaam." Dean's voice was a dull, white buzzing in my ear.

"Wha'?" Black on black blurred my vision.

"Keep walking."

I dutifully acknowledged Dean with a small head nod, holding tighter to the flashlight. I stumbled over something. An alligator? My head drooped forward, then back. The flashlight's beam bounced off the water, light shining on the black ripples distorting my sense of up and down.

"Just a log." I swayed away from Dean, barely able to keep my head upright.

"Come on, Sam, stay with me." Dean pulled me back.

My leg was killing me. I couldn't stop shivering, couldn't focus. The pain was like thorns and knifes ripping at my flesh. Suddenly, the water that was cold felt hot. Like the sewage had turned to acid and my skin was dissolving off bone.

"Sam?"

"I'm good, Dean,." For a moment the pain brought back my concentration. "You remember anything in Dad's journal on how to kill these things?"

"Man, I never even knew these things existed. Dad must have forgotten to buy his copy of How to Kill a…" Dean scratched his head.

"Frogman." I filled in.

"For Dummies," he added "My guess is a simple bullet to the heart."

"Which is in the weapon's bag." I shivered, the heat gone but the chill back.

"Which is why I have to get us back to the car -- pronto. Gun. Glove box. Sure as hell not going to kiss the thing to death," Dean deadpanned.

"Is that even possible?"

"What?"

"Kissing someone to death."

"Not in your case," Dean said dryly.

I couldn't help but laugh at that, the action nearly bringing me to my knees, but I managed to catch my balance.

"Sam?" Dean asked, his voice deep and loud in my ear.

"My leg hurts, but I'm okay," I replied.

We staggered on. Hither and thither, me desperate not to drop to my knees in the inky, sewage water. I looked down the jet-black abyss before us -- the abyss looked back. The nothingness moved inside me, and the ground was no longer under my feet.

"Damn you, Sam!" Dean hauled me up. "Not yet. Wait until I get you back to the car."

My heart pounded.

"Gonna pass out." I said, grinding my teeth against the cloud that wanted to kill off all six of my senses.

"No. No, you're not, man!" Dean yelled, the father-like drill sergeant in him appearing.

"Think I might," I whispered, listing to the left.

"Don't argue with me!" Dean shook his head violently

Dean kept talking, but his voice was growing fainter. I was damp, cold, getting wetter by the moment. There was a foul stench in the air. One I couldn't quiet put my nose on to explain. I stiffened, noticing a couple of cat-sized shadows patrolled along the slim covered wall. Relieved when my flashlight's beam identified them as rodent, not amphibian. The whisker twitching, pointy-nosed rats only added to the ominous disgust of walking in sledge. Even in the dim lighting of the flashlight's beam, I could see the revoltingly, goopy walls as they spun around me. I gulped at the pungent air trying to hold down my early morning short stack with blueberry syrup, side of extra crispy bacon, coffee, and juice.

"Sam, you think this tunnel leads straight to the heart of hell?" Dean asked

"From where I'm standing, it looks crooked, "I chuckled lightly.

"C'mon, Sam, you would so never be the last comic standing."

Silence stretched between us. For how long I had no clue, until alarms started to sound off in my head. The kind of alarms that tell you…you're about to take a header.

"Where?" I squinted, watching the dimming flashlight's beam dance around the walls erratically. "Dean," I breathed, the pain in my leg blasting like a furnace, darkness disorienting me.

"Sam, come on man, take a few breaths. You're passing out on me."

"No, kidding," I mumbled, my feet seeming to evaporate.

"Sam!" Dean's panicked voice didn't stop me from cascading down to the slimy slab.

There was a filmy haze, and utter silence, broken only by the beating of my rapid heartbeat, and Dean's distant voice.

TBC --

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	2. Chapter 2

**EMERGENCY EXIT**

**By: Karen B.**

**Conclusion:::**

**Thank you so much for your time in joining the boys in this little adventure.**

**Sunshine to you always, even in rain,**

**Karen B.**

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"Hey." A reverberating voice drew my attention from the dark place I was in. "Come on, bro." A hand tapped the side of my cheek.

"Ahhh, God." I blinked, a beam of light burning my eyes.

"You awake?"

"I'm blind," I moaned feebly.

"Sammy?" Dean was crouched next to me.

"Dean! Get that thing out of my eyes, man." I batted at Dean's hand. "What happened?" I asked, slowly realizing I was sitting against a wet, slimy, black encrusted wall water up to my waist. "Gaaa." The smell of this dark chamber gagged me.

"Dude, you passed out."

" I warned you." I was lightheaded, the pain searing my leg having moved into my stomach. "Get me up." I pressed my back further against the black sludge on the wall trying to stand.

"You're not looking so good." Dean put a hand to my chest stopping my action.

"I don't feel so good, but I can walk," I said, swallowing the lump in my throat.

"Sam, you couldn't cross a street right now without the help of a ninety-year-old boy scout." He brought me up to my feet. "Just stay close." Dean clamped a hand around my midsection and started us moving again. "And no more feinting, Little Miss Muffet."

The lump in my throat muddled around there a moment before it landed in my stomach. I was feeling sicker by the moment. Drunkenly dizzy, and fuzzy brained. Dean was laboring to breathe, taking on more and more of my weight, but made no more comments on my weakness.

"Damn, this place smells like," Dean hesitated. "Like ass."

"Smells more like…" I paused, sifting through the file cabinet inside my brain. "Dean." I came to a standstill, turning to face my brother. "Hydrogen sulfide and methane gas."

"Holy crap!" We both said, looking into each other's fear-stricken eyes.

"Sam, don't you dare get gassy on me." Dean gave a crooked smile, moving us along. "One spark and this whole place will erupt like a shaken up soda pop can."

"Dean, you're the one who ate that beef and bean…Ahhhhhhh!" My voice dropped off. No, I take that back. The ground had dropped off. Dean and I with it.

I was descending feet first down a giant, slippery water slide, struggling to keep hold of our only source of light. I tried not to concentrate on the steep drop or the icy cold water between my ass and the rough stone -- a shock to my system. I could just make out the fact that Dean was yelling. Yet, I couldn't pinpoint his position or what he was yelling about. Although, the word 'Bonzi' came to mind. I estimated the drop to be at least forty-two feet when I finally plunged, straight into a lagoon of glossy, black water.

I sank like the Sasquatch Dean always said I was. Even though I'd kept my eyes open the whole time, I became disoriented. Using my arms more than my legs, twisting and turning trying to swim upward. Only everything looked exactly the same, and in my confusion I didn't know which way upward was. For all I knew I was desperately swimming downward. All I could be sure of was that my leg was on fire and my lungs were bursting with the need to take in a breath.

Amazing what you think about when you're about to die. I was reminded of the time I was sixteen. Dad, Dean and I were white water rafting. chasing down another crap awful creature. The raft had capsized. My life jacket had pulled me upward, only to trap me under the raft. Pinned against the rushing river, canyon wall, and a large boulder. The life jacket pushing me up -- the over turned raft pushing me down. I actually had sucked in several lungfuls of water, nearly drowning before Dean's hands grab hold of mine and pulled me out.

Everything around me now was much like that day. Black and scary. I struggled valiantly. Panic mixing with adrenaline, clawing at the water, desperate to break the surface. I still had a grip on the flashlight, the beam cutting through the murky gloom and causing the water to sparkle like sequence. Not much help there.

'Can't breathe.' The words said silently in my head. 'Don't breathe.' I fought the all to human urge.

There was a roaring in my ears and I went limp, knowing I was sinking but unable to do anything to stop my decent. The flashlight's beam fell away, replaced by a total blackness I couldn't describe. I lost all sense of time, floating ever somewhere. For an instant, I thought I'd sucked in a mouthful of water. Once I did that I was a goner. I'd keep sucking in water until I drowned.

It was then I become aware of a shadow swimming toward me, and I flipped out.. Frogman? Great White? Piranha? Alligator? Steve Erwin -- I was not. Forgetting myself, I opened my mouth to yell out my shock, water going into my mouth and then my nose. Quickly I calmed down, shut my mouth and started to claw the water again, my body tensing when the shadow came upon me. Something touched my waist, wrapped around my chest, hauled me upward. I broke the surface, head back, gasping for air, my hair long and wet hanging straight down over my face. I couldn't see a damn thing.

"Gahhhh!" I struggled weakly, sewage water sputtering and spraying out my mouth.

"Shhh. It's me. Sam, it's me," A voice repeated softly. "Don't fight me! Sammy, stop fighting me, just breathe. I got you!" Trembling fingers pulled the hair out of my eyes.

"Waaaa'…" I choked and gagged, fluid slogging around in my lungs. "Ghaaaaa…" My throat blocked with water -- I felt my face flush red, unable to breathe.

"Get it out, little brother." A hand slid to my back pounding hard. "Sam! Sammy! Get it out!"

Somehow Dean's voice took hold. Took away the cold and the water plugging my throat.

"Dean," I coughed up a gallon of slime.

Dean's hold was super tight across my chest as he swam us over to the edge of the wall.

"Come on, kiddo, keep breathing."

"Wha' happen?" My voice water-logged.

"Bro, you tried to drown yourself -- again."

"Stupid." My head spun.

"Consensus of your lifetime." Dean stared at me for an incredibly long time. I was about to say something, anything to distract him from his concern, but Dean beat me to the punch. "Sam, let go of the flashlight, thing's no good anymore."

I glanced at the mag-lite still gripped tight in my hand, releasing stiff fingers and letting the casing sink under the water. The water? It should have been ace of spades dark. I shouldn't have been able to see a thing, but I could. I glanced up to a large opening in the ceiling of the chamber.

"D-daylight," I stuttered, I was freezing and my injured leg was twitching all by itself. "Now…now what?" I asked for my next set of instructions, glad to let Dean boss me around for once.

"Dig in, Sam." Dean lifted my hands to the rock. I gripped the sides, barely holding my head above water. "These walls are rugged enough. I'm going to climb out of here, and get you a rope."

"Yeah, Okay." That made sense. I nodded my agreement. "Just don't take to long…Dean!" One hand went to Dean's shoulder holding him in place.

"What? You passing out again?"

I nodded toward a dark corner. Only five feet away, suction-cupped to the wall was the web-footed, hollow cheeked, smooth skinned, Kermit. Its forked, sticky tongue darting in and out its gapping mouth, bloodlust beaming out two bulging black eyes.

"Friggin' green leprechaun," Dean growled.

"Frog."

"Steve Erwin, you're not." Dean tensed, now holding my switchblade in his hand.

"Dean, that blade barely whittles wood."

Long muscular legs pushed off the rock, and I watched in horror as aqua man dove into the water, disappearing into the inky sludge.

I wrinkled my nose, suddenly reminded of the horrible rotten egg smell down here. "Out. Out now!" I yelled, gripping the walls and pulling myself from the water, leading the way.

"What?"

"Dean!" I gritted through the pain. "Hydrogen sulfide and methane gas, remember?"

"You going to fart?"

"Dude," I muttered, scrambling upward. the best I could. Dean scrambled right behind me, using his shoulder under my left foot to help push me along. "You still have those waterproof matches you keep in your wallet?" I asked concentrating on getting my twitchy leg to work, new found adrenaline pumping through me.

"Sammy, your simplemindedness amazes me," Dean said dryly.

"Thanks," I grunted. "I think." Glancing down, I could see Dean struggling. One-handedly working his wallet out of his wet jeans, frogman not far behind. "Dean, it's closing in!" I yelled.

"Keep going!" Dean ordered.

Clinging to the rock he half-turned kicking the creature in the face as hard as he could with a heavy boot. A painful shriek filled the chamber. I paused to look, seeing frogman splashing back down into the water.

"Get a move on, granny!" Dean shouted.

I turned, continuing to pull my body up hand over hand. Latching onto any crevice or crack I could find, feet kicking against rock. Things were graying, my leg burning, and I was drenched in sweat. Or was that sludge? I was cold. I was hot. I was barely holding onto consciousness, but I did as I was told.

Over the sound of my own gasping breath, I could hear Dean behind me yelling, "We're almost there."

I tilted my head up -- true, only a few more feet to go.

"Bitch, move faster!" Dean hissed.

"You're such a childish…" I starred into another set of bulging eyes glaring furiously at me. Frogman's pearly whites lashed out. "Jerk!" Dazed, and running on pure instinct I balled one hand into a fist. I swung hard, connecting with frogman but loosing my footing. "Arghhhh!" I fell.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean's peeved tone echoed all around me. "Sam!" A strong hand snagged my arm, brute strength mixed with brotherly love stopping my decent. For a moment, I hung limp in my brother's hold. "Sam, grab on. Focus!" Dean snapped, steadying me against the rock. "Did Kermit bite you?" Dean asked, caring shining in his eyes.

"Where?" I blinked, glancing frantically about, trying to rid myself of the unnatural darkness. "Dean? Where is it?"

"Back in the drink. Answer my question, did it bite you again?"

"No."

"Damn thing is fast," Dean said, straining every muscle to keep hold of me.

"I got it," I said , finding a hand and foothold and taking my weight off Dean.

"Think I saw this on Animal Cops once," Dean grumbled. "Sam, you think you can make it the rest of the way up without…"

"Dean." I titled my head to one side, looking down. "Shit. Shit. Shit," I cursed, watching two frogs climbing up out of the water heading back for us.

"No friggin' way." Dean's stunned gaze met mine.

"Damn thing's come in pairs," I grunted, adjusting my footing and scrambling upward.

"Thank you, Noah," Dean mumbled. "One plus one equals ten-thousand Sea-Monkeys."

"Tadpoles." My fingers gripped the edge of the sewer and I clawed for purchase.

"Enough with the biology lessons already, Sam," Dean grunted, pushing against my shoe and shoving me upward. "We have to torch this place. Now!"

I belly crawled out. Flipping onto my back just in time to see Dean standing cool, calm, and collected over the hole we'd just been in. He struck a match and without hesitation and not an ounce of mercy, flicked the flame into the pit. Before I knew what was happening, Dean had me under the armpits, banking left then right, hauling me away from the hole. Like thunder rumbling, a ball of flame belched skyward. My knees buckled and I collapsed to the ground.

"Arrrrrrrrhg!" Dean landed square on my chest shielding my body with his body as the ground violently shook.

From under my protective armor that was Dean, I watched a blazing shock of bright orange fire shoot skyward. I must have blacked out a moment, because when I opened my eyes the flames were gone and Dean was sitting wet and dirty by my side.

"That was some toad roast." He smiled down at me. "Think you'll get warts?" He nodded toward my leg

"What? No!" I began to roll my eyes but stopped, feeling dizzy. "Dean, how many times do I have to tell you they're…"

"Looked more like a grasshoppers," Dean snipped, getting up he stepped to the edge of the pit and squinted down.

"That's what you get for cutting fourth period bio, Dean. Hope that F and ten swats you took was worth making out in the janitor's closet with Principal Dan's daughter," I laughed, but my humor was stolen by the sick feeling in my gut.

"That's harsh, dude." Dean stepped back to me.

"They wiped out?" I glanced upward, the clouds in the sky spinning out of control.

"Like green snot on wet tissue."

"Ohhhhh," I gagged. "You suck."

"You feeling all right?" Dean bent down next to me.

We stared at each other, both of us wondering the same thing. Could the frog bite be poisonous.

"Think I might pass out again," I finally admitted.

"Think you can help me get you to the car before you do, biology professor?"

"Sure thing, ."

"Ha. Ha. Let's go, overachiever."

I gave a miserable nod, and held my hands out. Dean pulled me up to my feet smoothly. I breathed in and out listening to the buzzing in my ear, drowsily brushing the bee away.

"How you doing there, Steve?" Dean cracked.

"Shut up!"

I trudged along blindly, the socks inside my boots squishing, denim sopping wet, shirt sticking to my skin, and blood dripping from my leg. I leaned heavier against Dean, trusting big brother to get us where we needed to be. Time was liquid, but eventually I heard the creak of old metal, the comfort of worn leather, and the musical jangle of keys as they turned in the ignition.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I cracked open one eye. I was hot and sticky, curled into a ball like an oversized puppy on a sagging undersized mattress. Sunlight, morning or evening -- I couldn't be sure, tried to make its way in through the thick, coffee-colored curtains. It didn't take me long to figure out where I was. Dean was standing over a small sink in a corner of the motel room, wringing a washcloth out under the faucet.

"Hey." Dean paused, catching my eye in the mirror. "You awake?"

"You tell me." My brow bunched up, visions of Old Yeller being taken out by the hand of his master slipping in and out of my mind. "You going to shoot me anytime soon?" I untangled my legs from the sheets.

"Guess again." Dean sat on the edge of the bed, the cool washcloth he placed on my forehead soothing the pounding pain.

"Burn me, cut off my head, stab me in the heart with a silver handled butter knife dipped in guacamole?"

"Dude." Dean laughed. "I talked to Bobby. The varmints are not poisonous."

"Good news," I coughed.

"And," Dean took the now warm washcloth from my forehead, flipping the cloth around he pressed down.

"Hmmmmm," I sighed, the renewed coolness easing some of my pain.

"Turns out fire is the only way to gank the Looney tune rodents," Dean explained.

"Amphibians." I tried to swallow past the thick prickly feel in my throat.

"Sam," Dean sighed. "You and your bio lessons. I have half a mind to beat you."

"Half a mind is right." I stared at Dean the obvious question shining in my eyes.

"The bite got infected, Sam. You've had a fever and been really out of it for a couple days."

"Cool." I licked my dry lips, turning my head looking for something.

"If you say so." Dean reached for that something "You're not going anywhere for awhile, bro." Dean slid his hand under my head and lifted. "But you'll be okay."

I drank deeply, choking when the sweet tasting water went down the wrong way.

"Easy." Dean pulled the glass away. "Liquid sugar. Tastes great, huh? How you feel?" He lowered my head.

"Fabulous." I started to drift, not believing my own lie.

"Try again." Dean's voice snapped me back.

"Awful," I coughed.

"It will get better, Sam." Dean leaned close.

"Comforting." I had to smile, Dean looked like a hovering guardian angel. "Hey." I glanced toward the bathroom door. "What if our frog friends are still alive, crawl out of the toilet?" I joked.

"Got it covered, little brother." Dean said seriously, pointing a finger across the room to a small table.

"What the?" I blinked at the hardware store. Crowbar, hammer, ten-inch nails and thick ply wood.

"Ripped the friggin' bowl out, dude. Nailed the hole shut."

"Dean." I looked at my brother, eyes going wide. "Where do we…"

"Also, covered." Dean held up a plastic bucket.

I closed my eyes, drifting back to sleep. My brother -- always one fruit loop short of a bowl.

The end.

**Author's note: No lizards 'erm…grasshoppers, 'em frogs were harmed or flambéed before, during, or after the writing of this story.**


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